


Just For Cakes

by whatarubberchicken



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Gift Fic, LadyNoir - Freeform, Red Velvet Cake, chat kills a cake, making up birthdays, no im not telling y'all her birthday wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatarubberchicken/pseuds/whatarubberchicken
Summary: Marinette discovers something delicious--that she can't have! Oh, the frustration! But what did Chat bring to their casual patrol night? (Originally written as a gift fic.) Some friendly Ladynoir.





	Just For Cakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bowser14456](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowser14456/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, @bowser14456! Hope you have a good one!

**Just for Cakes**

Marinette skipped down to the bakery in high spirits. She’d finally gotten all her work done and was finally ready to have some quality time with one of her best friends. After all, Hawkmoth was still pouting over the fact that yet _another_ villain had simply handed over their akumatized item after a short battle with Paris’s heroes, and had barely even tried to get their Miraculouses. She was trying not to be smug about it, but secretly, she was thrilled. The people of Paris seemed to be fully behind her and Chat Noir, which meant a lot less work.

And hopefully, a quiet patrol tonight, complete with snacks.

“Papa,” she sang lightly, “do we have any macarons left over from to—WOW, WHAT IS THAT??” She squealed, staring at the bright red cake in amazement. It wasn’t huge, like some of her father’s creations were, but it WAS practically covered in strawberries and chocolate (two of her favorites) and there was something written on the top….

Tom Dupain quickly put his body between her and the mouth-watering confection, blocking her view.

“Nope! Sorry, honey! No viewing the secret order!”

“Secret order?!” Marinette repeated gleefully. “Is that for ME??”

_Oh, who could’ve ordered her a secret cake? Could it be **Adrien**? Maybe he was planning to take her out for a romantic night and asking her to be his **girlfriend!!** THAT WOULD BE A DREAM COME TRUE!!!_

“No, sweetie, it’s not for you,” Tom said gently.

Marinette pouted as her romantic daydream crumbled before her eyes. “Then why can’t I see it?” she whined, trying to look around her father.

“Because,” her father said, moving with her to continue to block her line-of-sight, “one of the—reasons he—trusted us—with this—was that we—” he finally put his hand on her hand to push her away and hold her there, “—promised that _no one_ would know where it came from. Or who bought it.”

“Why would anyone need that much secrecy around a _cake_?” she asked, frustrated.

“He’s… kind of a celebrity,” Tom said vaguely, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now, I’ve told you too much already—go play somewhere else!”

“But, technically, I work here too!” she pointed out. “You could just say, as an employee, I needed to know!”

“Nope. He specifically told me not to tell you, since he knows your best friend is a blogger who loves to get scoops on celebrities.” She opened her mouth to defend her friend, but her father stared her down. “And ‘as an employee,’ I expect you to listen to your boss.” Tom said, crossing his arms.

Marinette scowled, knowing that he could be very stubborn at times like this. Then she smirked.

“Ok, fine. I’ll listen to _the boss_ ,” she said sweetly, then called upstairs, “MAMAN?? CAN I LOOK AT THE PRETTY STRAWBERRY CAKE, PLEASE?!”

“NO, DEAR! LISTEN TO YOUR FATHER!!” Sabine called back.

“Darn it. I thought that would work,” Marinette grumbled. Her father smirked at her knowingly and made a little ‘shooing’ motion with his hands.

“Fine, but I’m taking some extra croissants,” she said, grabbing a bunch of treats for her and Chat Noir.

“Try not to make yourself sick!” he called after her, carefully guarding his precious cake until she was back upstairs.

Marinette tried not to grumble all the way upstairs. Really, just the fact that she _couldn’t_ know was what was burning her up inside. Now that she knew she _couldn’t_ know, she _wanted_ to know. _Needed_ to know. Who had commissioned a special cake and was enough of a celebrity to want to keep it all hush hush? _Why_ would they need to keep it hush hush??

_It was a little too small to be a wedding cake, maybe an engagement?_

_Was it some millionaire, celebrating his mistresses’ birthday?? (Some rumors were going around that Gabriel Agreste had a secret girlfriend…)_

_Was some actor going to propose to his long-time girlfriend?? (Or maybe Jagged Stone was going to propose to Penny! Or Clara Nightingale??)_

_Or was it a mafia boss, celebrating the defeat of an enemy?? (Wow, her mind went dark sometimes….)_

“C’mon, Tikki. I need to get out of here before my brain explodes from ‘what if’ questions,” Marinette said. “Spots on!” Tikki looked confused at her statement but giggled as she flew into the earrings.

Ladybug grabbed her blanket and the bag of goodies and was out in the night air before her musings could catch up to her. _Ahh, flying over Paris was its own form of therapy._

She landed at their favorite rooftop and spread out the blanket. They’d originally met at the Eiffel Tower each night, but the tourists saw them, figured out it was a routine, and had continually pestered them for pictures. It had become too much of a hassle, and they’d agreed on this other, non-descript building with a great view of the Tower, especially when it was lit up against the night sky. So far, nobody had found them. Or they were keeping their distance. Either way, she was grateful she and Chat could have this time together to get to know each other and work on their teamwork without worrying about timers or akumas with agendas.

And if they happened to race each other around Paris with an extra macaron as the prize for the winner, well, it was still considered patrol, right? She hummed to herself as she set out the snacks she’d gathered, trying to keep her mind off… other things….

_OH, WHO WAS SHE KIDDING???_

_Okay, Ladybug. Whose cake was it??_

_Hawkmoth? Prematurely celebrating their defeat? –Ha. She’d shove his face in it!_

_XY? Trying to shmooze some unsuspecting musician to do his work for him? –No, no way. He wouldn’t be that thoughtful._

_Mayor Bourgeois? Maybe as a gift for Chloé? –Actually, that one kind of made sense. And he didn’t want anyone to know about it, especially Marinette, because he knew how much Chloé hated her and that his precious princess would probably refuse any cake that came from Marinette’s parents’ bakery._

Ladybug nodded. Case closed. The cake was yet another attempt for the mayor to buy his daughter’s affection. That had to be it. And it wasn’t even Chloé’s birthday or anything!

She hoped the brat choked on it. _–NO! NO, SHE DIDN’T!! UGH, LADYBUG! WHAT A THOUGHT!! And besides, that’d be a total waste of perfectly-delicious-looking strawberries and chocolate that she **knew** would melt on the tip of her tongue…._

_Ok, she needed to stop drooling. Where was that cat??_

She was just a little jealous, she finally admitted to herself, stretching out on the blanket. She knew (even with her cute little daydream about Adrien blushing and asking her to go out with him and hand-feeding each other strawberries under the Paris sky) that the cake wasn’t for her. It was nowhere near her birthday, no holidays were coming up, and she didn’t really have anyone who would buy her a cake on impulse (even in her dizziest daydreams, Adrien was far too timid to actually ask her out with a cake! Unless, of course, he made it himself… and now she was imagining him in an apron—SO CUTE!!)

She was still giggling to herself when she heard the tell-tale pitter-patter of Chat Noir’s boots.

“About time,” she grinned as soon as he leapt into view.  

“Sorry, my lady,” Chat laughed. “I had to pick up an order.”

Ladybug frowned at the non-descript brown box in his hands. “Cha~at, you were supposed to get the drinks!”

“I got ‘em! I got ‘em!” he said quickly, producing two bottles of soda from the belt around his waist. Ladybug grabbed them before he could drop the box he was trying to balance on one hand.

“So, what’s in the box?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her as he carefully set it down on the blanket. She narrowed her eyes when he flushed.

_He’d better not be trying anything romantic again._

“I—umm, had a thought…,” he said, looking nervous. “I know we don’t know each others’ birthdays or anything… and I know we can’t! But you’re a really important person in my life, and it just kinda felt wrong to never have a celebration, soo….”

And just like that, Ladybug’s scowl was wiped away, even before he opened the box.

_Oh, my sweet kitty…._

She gasped when she saw it. It was her cake! Well, not _hers_ hers—but apparently _hers_ hers—because Chat had just lit a candle on the top of it—and he was smiling so timidly—and the top spelled out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADYBUG” in beautiful white and crème-colored frosting—and why hadn’t she noticed before that the strawberries and little chocolate pieces were perfectly positioned to look like ladybug spots all over—

“Chat!” she whispered, choked up.

“Make a wish, my lady,” he said, his grin widening when he saw how much she liked his gift.

She quickly wiped away some happy tears. “Aren’t you supposed to sing first?” she teased.

“Oh, shoot! That’s right! That’s now, isn’t it… umm, okay. I’m sorry in advance….” He cleared his throat and began singing the most off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” she’d ever heard. When it finally ended, he looked away, flushing deep. “And that’s why my dad made me take piano for my music lessons, not voice,” he admitted. “It wasn’t too bad, was it?”

Just then, they heard voices from down below.

_“Oh my God, what was that?”_

_“Sounded like an alley cat.”_

Chat Noir flushed even deeper red. Ladybug, however, gave him a grin and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“It was perfect, Chat. Thank you,” she said, quickly blowing out the candle so no more wax could drip onto her precious cake. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” Chat just gave her a dazed, dopey smile in return, rubbing the cheek where she’d kissed him.

“But just so you know,” she continued, selecting a strawberry for herself and taking a big bite. “It’s nowhere near my birthday, you goof.”

He gave her a good-natured pout. “And how was _I_ supposed to know that?”

“You could’ve just used the day we met.”

“Nope. That one’s our anniversary,” Chat said, shaking his head. “No way was I going to combine dates if I could help it. And just think, you get more presents this way!”

That got her attention. “I get presents?”

He took a small box out of his pocket and shook it at her tauntingly. “Only after we finish the cake.”

Ladybug pouted. “And I suppose _you’re_ gonna want _me_ to plan out a fake birthday party for you too?”

“We~ell, you don’t _have_ to, but if you _want_ to….” He trailed off, looking hopeful. She laughed again, already planning. No way she could resist those puppy dog eyes. And she already knew of several presents he would love.

“So, are you gonna help me eat this thing or what?”

Chat Noir quickly sprang into action, producing a knife and some napkins (no plates, but he looked so discouraged until she told him it was fine).

“I’ve always wanted to try this type of cake,” he babbled as he cut it. “My mom had it once in America and said it was really good, but—OMG, YOUR CAKE IS BLEEDING.”

Ladybug looked. Sure enough, the inside of the cake was a deep red in color. Against the brightness of the frosting on top, it really did look like he’d cut into some animal. She covered her mouth to hide her laughter, having had a similar reaction when she was younger.

“Is that red velvet cake?” she asked.

He gaped at her. “Yes! I mean, they said it was red, but I didn’t expect it to be _red_ -red! I thought it would be—oh wow, I feel like I killed something.” He put the knife down, looking overwhelmed at the sight of her cake.

She laughed as she took the knife from him and cut herself a small piece. “Don’t worry, kitty, it’s good. Here, try a piece,” she said, holding it out for him to take a bite.

He looked at the cake in her hand dubiously. “My lady, you know I trust you, and you hand-feeding me is one of my fantasies come true, but _that_ … shouldn’t we say a prayer over it or something?”

“Eat,” she insisted, barely able to breathe through all the laughter she was holding back. He still looked hesitant, but he finally took a bite. Instantly, all his doubts melted away.

“Ooo, that is good,” he said, looking down at the mutilated cake. “Thank you for your sacrifice, oh delicious one.”

“Mmm, and cream cheese frosting,” Ladybug said, currently in heaven as she finished off her piece. “You’re setting the bar pretty high for these fake birthdays, Chat Noir.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge, my lady,” Chat grinned back, finally relaxing.

“Challenge accepted.”

They sat there for a few minutes, enjoying themselves, when Chat finally broke the silence.

“So what did you wish for, my lady?” he asked.

“Can’t tell you,” she said with a wink. “But maybe you’ll find out next year.”

_Or maybe sooner,_ she thought, watching him gaze out over their city _. Maybe._

 


End file.
